


What Can I Say?    (Hero Part 6)

by RaceUlfson



Series: Hero [6]
Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mild Language, Sticky children, Suggested Smut, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 11:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27969869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaceUlfson/pseuds/RaceUlfson
Summary: Old fic, part of the Hero-verse.Seifer as a Mall Santa. What could go wrong?
Relationships: Seifer Almasy & Squall Leonhart, Zell Dincht/Quistis Trepe
Series: Hero [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/31568
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	What Can I Say?    (Hero Part 6)

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Darksquall and her wickedly clever rhymes and for XIneko who's ideas I shamelessly stole. Hey this is fanfiction, gotta expect a little thieving. :D
> 
> Speaking of stealing, you’re all aware I don't own Squaresoft or these characters, right? The song was also used without permission.
> 
> Yaoi and other hints of hanky panky. Dirty words and sticky children. You have been warned.

When the love of your life comes to you and asks for a favor for a good cause, that will only cost an afternoon of your time and a bit of your dignity, what can you say?

"No way," I said. "Not a chance."

Squall rolled his eyes. "Seiferrr."

"No. I can't believe Zell talked you into this."

"Behind those big baby blue eyes is a calculating mind a corporate lawyer would envy."

I thought about that and nodded. "He blackmailed you." I wondered if I should go kick his ass. Who was I fooling? Dincht would hand my own ass back to me gift-wrapped.

"Only after begging and bribery failed."

"Ah, the 3 B's of persuasion."

"There are 4 B's, actually." Squall sank gracefully to his knees in front of me.

"Do tell."

He smiled, and his eyes took on that familiar wicked silver gleam. He reached for my fly. "Blow job."

So there I was, dressed as the Timber version of the Yule King - Santa Claus. Apparently he's a big guy, which is why I had to do it, and judging from the ridiculous white beard, old.

"I didn't think elves got old."

"It's to make you look more grandfatherly," Zell whispered. "So the parents don't think you're a perv who just likes to have little kids wiggle in his lap."

"What, old people aren't kinks? What's the logic in that?" He doesn't want to know what I caught Cid and Edea doing on the kitchen table one time. I'll have to tell him.

My spouse for the day, Mrs. Claus, aka Quistis, signaled another batch of brats were approaching. I groaned but quickly plastered on my jolly smile. The sound system drizzled out another festive tune, another hit by the Valium Zombies. Squall was going to owe me a hellova lot more than a blow job after this.

Zell brightened immediately and bounced all a jingle towards the kids. If anyone was tailor made to play an elf it was Zell Dincht. He was short, he was frenetic, he had pointed ears for the love of Hyne. The weird birthmark fazed no one at all. And Zell loved kids, a good thing since he was the Dean of the Primary Division at Balamb Garden.

I loved kids, too, until about the third one pissed on me. By this point in the afternoon I didn't even like them anymore. The amazing stickiness of the candy fed brats was matched only by their greed. If they want everything in the world they should do like I did and try to take over. Then at least they'll have a job to pay for all that crap.

My eyes drifted over to my second elf, Squall, who was in charge of sweets distribution. There were some perks to this job, I thought, as he bent over to offer a candy cane to a darling little cherub who had just demanded the complete My Little Chicabo Set with Matching Corral. Squall had refused the jester like elf boots and hat and was wearing black thigh boots with the red tights and green elf tunic. A tunic that was short enough to show an excellent glimpse of his ass.

I shifted around and willed my hard on away. Any remaining amorous thoughts vanished when the kid Zell swung up on to my lap promptly puked all over me.

I signaled to "Mrs. Claus" to take over and retreated into my little gingerbread dressing room. Squall followed me in, wrinkling his nose at the smell.

"This coat has had it and so have I."

Squall took the red velvet and fur disaster from me and sealed it in a plastic bag for dry cleaning. "That's our last spare."

"Good, I quit. Tell the rest of the little bastards Santa ran out of toys."

"No reason why Santa can't listen to kids in his tee shirt and suspenders." Squall's voice trailed off and he tipped his head, listening.

I tried listening, too, but all I heard was that cursed canned Yule music and kids. But then, I didn't have the hearing boost from junctioning Siren, either.

Squall looked at me. "Screams. On the upper level."

He slipped out the back and I went around front to alert Zell and Quistis. I was immediately mobbed by the little puker and her overprotective parents.

The kid was much more concerned about not getting her loot than the fact that she made Santa smell like curdled cocoa. Her parents seemed to think it was important that I sooth her nearly damaged psyche by reassuring her Santa didn't hold a grudge. Ha.

Resisting the urge to just push the smug family away from me and into the corn dog booth, I smiled and said "Sure, sure, fine, fine, Santa has to handle back up for his little elves, who are running up stairs to put some coal in someone's stocking." I peeled Pukey's fingers off me. "You might wanna just get on over there, come back tomorrow," I watched Squall running up the escalator to the upper level and heard gunshots. "Santa has to kick some ass now. ‘Scuze me!"

Zell and Quis were already running up the escalator as well and I figured - they're flashy, they're celebrities - let the dipshits focus on the SeeDs. I'll come in from behind. My favorite method.

Er. Someone remind me to edit that out before I publish my memoirs.

I was fairly pleased that I was not out of breath when I reached the top of the stairs. I may not be in training anymore, but all those workouts with Squall on the bed sheets must count for something. Squall was stalking towards the gunmen in his trademark gunslinger fashion.

Zell had taken one down but gotten shot and Quistis was standing over him with a Wall spell of some sort up. Quis looked like she had his wound under control; in fact she was taking out her whip and getting ready to seriously improve morale.

I felt all the hair on my ass go snow white as bullets sizzled past Squall's head. Then he actually brought his gunblade up and fucking deflected one!

I taught him that.

After fighting SeeDs, monsters, and Sorceresses, this was a cakewalk. I walked up to one of the gunmen and kicked him right in the butt, saying cheerily "Hey, punk, bend over and grab your ankles for daddy." When he turned around to shoot me, I punched him in the face and he went down like the sack of shit he was.

By that time, Squall had cut down the loser that had been shooting at him. Quistis had the last one screaming for mama, her whip giving new meaning to the word 'punishment' in his little weasel brain.

I turned to the various astonished shoppers peeking out of the storefronts and said sternly, “Do _not_ get on Santa’s naughty list.” 

The mall was dark and empty except for us. I was back in my Santa chair, examining Zell's arm and practicing medicine without a license. 

"It's pretty bad, Zell. You need to see Kadowski for this."

Zell bounced in place. "You have _Curaga_ on you, don't you? I have plans for tonight, just patch it up."

"I'll cure it but you are gonna need surgery after." He gave me a pleading look and I caved. Probably hurt like a bitch, poor guy, and it wasn't like Kadowaki hadn't reset field-cured bones a jillion times before.

The canned music switched on, and a sultry, familiar voice began to sing. "Santa Baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me. Been an awful good girl, Santa Baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight."

The spot lighting in the Kiddy compound came up and there was Quistis. She had abandoned the curly gray wig and the frumpy gown and was wearing a red satin Merry Widow, red tights, red opera gloves and fur trimmed hat and boots.

Zell's eyes glazed and I got a clue as to what some of his plans were for the night.

"Santa Baby, a shiny new convertible too, light blue." It was Quistis singing! And she was damn good. "I'll wait up for you, Dear, Santa Baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight."

A shadow joined her, as did another voice. Together, they sang, "Think of all the fun I've missed, think of all the fellas that I _haven't_ kissed." They moved forward more into the light, and fuck me if it wasn't Squall leaning on her shoulder, singing along. Somewhere in the fight his elf suit had vanished, leaving him in the slinky red cat suit and black thigh boots. He had put on a wide black Santa-style belt and his hat matched Quisty's and my own. "Next year I could be just as good, if you'll check off my Yule-tide list."

Zell moved like in a dream towards Quistis as she and Squall continued, "Santa Baby, I want a yacht, and really that's not a lot."

I held out my hand and Squall sashayed up to me.

"Been an angel all year," he pouted adorably, "Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight."

I pulled him into my lap and kicked the gingerbread doors to my throne booth shut. Going down chimneys was not at all what I had in mind.

The music droned on as I divested Squall of his tights and settled him more firmly in Ol' Santa's lap.

Softly, Squall sang, "I really do believe in you. Let's see if you believe in me."

So I proceeded to convince him.

Later we got our clothes back on and went in search of the rest of our group. Squall and I found Quistis and Zell snuggling under the mistletoe.

"Ho ho ho," I said.

Zell blushed and picked up his pants. "What can I say?"


End file.
